Writing; 5/5 Character: 4/5 Plot: 3.5/5
Extremely clever and well-written book about Arthur Less — an aging gay writer (he is almost 50 which doesn’t sound like aging to me!) who embarks on an around-the-world trip to avoid the wedding of his ex-lover and to recover from the rejection of his latest novel. The novel is part memory and part continuous epiphany / humiliation / growth embedded in a personalized travelogue covering visits to Mexico, Italy, Germany, Paris, Morocco, and India. The writing is excellent — pointed, clever, beautiful and without resorting to stupid plot devices. The blurb says it is hilarious and I didn’t find it so at all, which was interesting. It was slow paced and I didn’t care much for the main character but it did grow on me as I continued reading and I found myself pretty happy with the ending. I enjoyed the self-referential bits — Less’ rejected novel is almost exactly what this novel is, with the exception that this novel is what Less (finally) turns his novel into. Some very interesting bits where the book discusses whether or not Less is actually a good gay writer or even a good gay man — according to those who set these rules. It’s very clever and fun to read.
Some quotes which I hope show off the beautiful writing a bit:
“Sad young Arthur Less had become sad old Arthur Less. Stories would be brought out of mothballs for ridicule; new ones would be tested, as well. The thought was unbearable; he could under no circumstances decline. Tricky, tricky, this life.”
“Next morning: the coffee maker in his hotel room is a hungry little mollusk, snapping open its jaws to devour pods and subsequently secreting coffee into a mug.”
“Too wistful. Too poignant. These walk-around-town books, these day-in-the-life stories, I know writers love them. But I think it’s hard to feel bad for this Swift fellow of yours. I mean, he has the best life of anyone I know.”
“Name a day, name an hour, in which Arthur Less was not afraid. Of ordering a cocktail, taking a taxi, teaching a class, writing a book. Afraid of these, and almost everything else in the world. Strange, though; because he’s afraid of everything, nothing is harder than anything else. Taking a trip around the world is no more terrifying than buying a stick of gum. The daily dose of courage.”
His mind, a sloth making its slow way across the forest floor of necessity, is taking in the fact that he is still in Germany.“
“It is our duty to show something beautiful from our world. The gay world. But in your books, you make the characters suffer without reward. If I didn’t know better, I think you were Republican. Kalipso was beautiful. So full of sorrow. But so incredibly self-hating. A man washes ashore on an island and has a gay affair for years. But then he leaves to go find his wife! You have to do better. For us. Inspire us, Arthur. Aim higher. I’m so sorry to talk this way, but it had to be said.“
More likable, make Swift more likable. That’s what everyone’s saying; nobody cares what this character suffers. But how do you do it? It’s like making oneself more likable. And at 50, Less muses drowsily, you’re as likable as you’re going to get.”
“But he can no more feel sorry for Swift — now become a gorgon of Caucasian, male ego, snake headed, pacing through his novel turning each sentence to stone — than Arthur Less can feel sorry for himself.”
But his mind is converging on one point of light. What if it isn’t a poignant, wistful novel at all? What if it isn’t the story of a sad, middle-aged man on a tour of his hometown, remembering the past and fearing the future; a peripateticism of humiliation and regret; the erosion of a single male soul? What if it isn’t even sad? For a moment, his entire novel reveals itself to him like those shimmering castles that appear to men crawling through deserts…“
Books to look forward to ... 